


just come home

by mandjalorian



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22799347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandjalorian/pseuds/mandjalorian
Summary: Inspired by the scene where Horacio calls Javi a gringo because he has nothing to lose in Colombia. Javi ignores it at the time but goes straight home to you, instead of going back to the office like he’s supposed to. No one he works with knows about you because he can’t risk losing you. He does have something to lose, but they can’t know that.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	just come home

_“Right, I forgot you’re a gringo.”_

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_“What are you risking? These aren’t your men. You have no family here to lose. If this goes badly, there will be more widows and orphans, and I’ll have to carry that on my shoulders.”_

Javi replayed the conversation in his head. It hurt that Horacio, the man he’d grown closest to in Colombia, didn’t see him as one of them. Javi had put his heart and soul into this operation; he felt there was as much at stake for him as Horacio. Maybe there wasn’t. After all, all he had to lose was _you_. But for Javi, that meant more than a mother country. 

Javi accelerated rapidly, itching to get home to you. He was supposed to be joining Steve back at the office, but he couldn’t focus. Not until he saw you.

“Amor.” He murmured as he entered your apartment.

You stirred, hearing him distantly from where you’d dozed off on the sofa. You sat up and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when you saw him. He did the same as he walked towards you.

These days, every greeting between the two of you was a cacophony of sighs of relief.

“Are you alright?” You asked, finally noting his wild look.

He didn’t respond, just fell to his knees in front of you on the couch and buried his face in your chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“¿Qué paso?” You asked, cradling his head worriedly. 

“Nada,” he finally responded into your sweater, and you relaxed, but only just. “I missed you.”

You kissed the top of his unruly hair and rested your cheek on his head. “I always miss you, Javi.” 

He tightened his embrace around your middle and you buried your face further into his hair, breathing in his familiar smoky scent.

Truthfully, you were beginning to lose sleep lately. Especially on the nights Javi couldn’t come to you. Your imagination was too wild for its own good. And the recent news headlines had begun making their way into your dreams, always in the context of what might be happening to Javi. You woke up often in a cold sweat, gasping, needing to know if he was alright. Sometimes you could call his office line and hang up after hearing his raspy voice. Most times you had to wait until he came to see you.

You couldn’t remember when the relationship had shifted, from casual to godsend. It had started off purely carnal. Of course. Javi was all sex. The first time, you’d thought you’d never see him again afterwards. But he had come back. Secretly you’d been relieved. He hadn’t stopped coming. You knew he was seeing others back then. You hadn’t asked when it had stopped; you just knew it had. 

The first _te quiero_ had come from him, and it had come more naturally than the sex. He’d appeared out of nowhere on your doorstep in the middle of the night; the look in his eyes had been ragged, almost dead. But life had come back into his eyes when he had seen you. Then he’d uttered the words, and you’d said them back as he’d staggered into your arms. You’d known for a long time but hadn’t admitted it until then. He’d felt the same way. 

You never questioned his loyalty or devotion. Why you had changed love for him when nothing and no one else ever had. Nor had you questioned being one of his deepest secrets, even from his closest friends. The less who knew about you, the less danger you were in. Javi was a target and keeping you a secret protected you. It never bothered you. As long as he came home eventually.

No, the hard part wasn’t being kept a secret. You understood how you being a secret was rooted in his deep love for you, his need to protect you, the way he couldn’t protect anything or anyone else. The hard part was living day to day as if nothing was wrong when you could lose him at any moment. His line of work was more dangerous than even you understood. 

So when he murmured into your chest, explaining his conversation with Carillo, you understood. What bothered him wasn’t Steve making fun of him for the prostitutes and inability to commit. It wasn’t even Carillo’s words about how Javi was different in the grand scheme from him and the other Colombianos. It was the reminder of what he had to lose, even if Carillo didn’t know about you.

You spoke soothing words into Javi’s scalp, willing him to believe. You would be alright. Nothing would happen to you. As long as he remained safe and well, so would you.

“The only way this war can hurt me…” You tilted Javi’s head back, away from your chest so that his bloodshot eyes were gazing into yours. “Is if it takes you away from me.” You placed a warm kiss on Javi’s forehead.

He watched you for a moment with blazing eyes then surged upwards and captured your lips. The kiss was desperate, a plea. When he broke away, you slid down off the sofa and into his lap, letting him cradle you in a way he never had before.

“I don’t want to leave.” He said finally.

“I know,” you murmured into his neck.

He smoothed your hair back away from your face and kissed the tip of your nose. “What were you doing out here on the couch?”

“Waiting for you.”

He tightened his grip around you. “I’m sorry, corazón.”

You shook your head and pulled his hand to your lips, kissing his palm. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You turned his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Just come home.”

“Siempre,” he breathed into your hair.

You curled further into him, dreading the moment he would have to leave you, yearning already for the next time he’d walk through your door.


End file.
